"No, he hasn't a secretary except at his office. When he wants one at the house, he telephones to his office."
"I wondered why she came, for she didn't eat any dinner, and nobody spoke to her—not even Mr. Vanderbridge."
"Oh, he never speaks to her. Thank God, it hasn't come to that yet."
"Then why does she come? It must be dreadful to be treated like that, and before the servants, too. Does she come often?"
"There are months and months when she doesn't. I can always tell by the way Mrs. Vanderbridge picks up. You wouldn't know her, she is so full of life—the very picture of happiness. Then one evening she—the Other One, I mean—comes back again, just as she did tonight, just as she did last summer, and it all begins over from the beginning."
"But can't they keep her out—the Other One? Why do they let her in?"
"Mrs. Vanderbridge tries hard. She tries all she can every minute. You saw her tonight?"
"And Mr. Vanderbridge? Can't he help her?"
She shook her head with an ominous gesture. "He doesn't know."
"He doesn't know she is there? Why, she was close by him. She never took her eyes off him except when she was staring through me at the wall."